Break A Leg
by LallyintheSky
Summary: A one-shot inspired by the latest Glee Season 2 promo, thus, Season 2 Spoilers! Fuinn


A/N: So the Fuinn shipper within me has been totally freaking OUT over the promos lately, and the latest one had me in a tizzy: Finn's trying to join the Cheerios! Well instantly the wheels in my mind started turning, and we ended up with this! I promise, a L&I update is coming, but I just couldn't help but write this! Hope you guys enjoy it!

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"Next."

"I'd like to be a Cheerio."

Look, I know what you're thinking. Dude, you're the quarterback of the football team, why in the _hell_ do you want to be a Cheerio? It all started when Mr. Schue was talking about Nationals this year. Apparently they're in New York, which made Rachel super excited and she started rambling on about how we should all go see "Almost Normal" or something, I wasn't really listening. Well anyway, Schue was talking about how everyone sees us as this wimpy group that only does songs from musicals and 80's pop and we need to branch out and get people to see us differently. So that got me thinking, I need to do something that no one at McKinley would expect. At first I thought about joining the debate team, but I don't like to argue, and then I tried joining the volleyball team but I hit some kid in the face and broke his nose, so that was out too. That was when I saw it, plain as day on a locker near mine—"Cheerio Tryouts this Thursday!"

When I was dating Quinn, she always talked about how tough tryouts were, but I figured I had the balls to do it. Like a lot of people think cheerleading is gay (like, the literal gay, not like some offensive term. I learned the hard way not to use it in a negative way—every time I see Kurt's dad I feel like I'm going to poop my pants), but I mean, if you think about it, you get to watch girls in short skirts flashing their butts at you—it's pretty hot. I figured that if anyone questioned my manliness, I would just show them how totally un-gay it was.

So that's how I ended up standing, terrified, in front of Sue Sylvester and Becky Jackson, begging to be allowed onto the squad.

"Well Steve Perry, what makes you think you're good enough to join my squad?" Coach Sylvester asked, putting her glasses in her mouth. I shrugged, shoving my hands into the pockets of my gym shorts.

"I like crowds," I shrugged, Sue stared blankly at me.

"Do you have any cheerleading experience whatsoever?" she asked, and I perked up.

"Oh yeah, I used to watch Quinn rehearse all the time." I threw my arms out to my side and had a huge grin on my face, kinda like the ones I had when I was all drugged out because of the ex-Mrs. Schuester. "Who rocks the house? McKinley rocks the house! And when they rock the house they rock it all the way down! Who rocks the house? The Titans rock the house! And when they rock the house, they rock it all the way down!" I threw my hands in the air, still grinning like an idiot. Coach Sylvester looked kinda freaked out, and Becky just shook her head.

"This is really embarrassing," she said.

"Look, just give me a shot, please? I know I can do this." I shrugged, and I could tell Sylvester was looking me up and down.

"All right, Mississippi—" Becky leaned over and whispered something in her ear, "Hudson. Here's the deal. I don't really like you—in fact, your freakishly tall stature makes me feel as though I'm living in a well known Jonathan Swift novel—but my best male graduated last year despite all of my attempts to have him failed, and I need Hummel on vocals; not to mention he can barely lift his equipment bag, let alone another performer. So you're in—but if I have even one reason to cut you, consider it done. Now get out of my sight." She went back to writing something, and I ran out of the gym, partially frightened and partially psyched. I wasn't really watching where I was going, and nearly walked into someone—a very pretty, blonde someone.

"Sorry!" I stammered. I still wasn't very confident talking to Quinn, despite the fact that everything was basically over and things were kinda normal again. She, however, was looking at me suspiciously and raised an eyebrow—a very Quinn-like look.

"Finn…were you just at Cheerio tryouts?"

"Uh," I said awkwardly. I'd been hoping no one would find out until I was actually on the field, but she crossed her arms, the raised eyebrow stuck on her face. "May..be?" She began to giggle, and I shrugged one shoulder. I know I'm dating Rachel and everything, but I dunno…there's something about Quinn.

"Finn Hudson, a Cheerio. I never thought I'd see the day." I shrugged again, and she smiled softly at me—the Quinn smile.

"What can I say, you were an inspiration," I joked, and she laughed, brushing her hair behind her shoulder. I always liked when she did that because sometimes I would get a whiff of her shampoo. It was a coconutty shampoo—it kinda smelled like the stuff Puck would always spike the punch with at parties. It was nothing like Rachel, she smelled like strawberries, but you could always smell Rachel's hair. With Quinn, the smell was like a little surprise; something you'd never expect. I realized I was probably staring so I shook myself a little. "Are..are you trying out?" I asked, glancing at her workout attire and the red sweatband in her hair. She blushed a little and nodded.

"I miss it. A lot. I've been practicing all summer," she crossed her arms. "I finally have my back handspring back to the way it was be—the way it used to be," she said, reddening. I nodded, smiling.

"Cool. I don't really know what that is but cool," I said, and she laughed.

"Remember the one I used to practice in your backyard?" she asked, and I felt a weird, sad feeling. I really missed Quinn, like, a lot. I was super pissed at her about lying to me but like, I kissed Rachel that one time, and I was totally sober. It wasn't Quinn's fault she was a lightweight and Puck was a douchebag. It got really awkward and really quiet, and Quinn bit her lip uncomfortably, looking towards the gym. "I should go…I have my audition now," she explained, and I nodded.

"Yeah. Uh, break a leg," I said, and then stopped dead—the last time I'd heard those words, they'd been followed by me telling Rachel I loved her. Quinn, however, just smiled again and looked toward the ground.

"Thanks Finn," she looked up at me. "Hopefully I'll see you at Cheerio's practice." We were kinda just staring at each other, and then she turned to leave.

Now what happened next may have happened because I'm a teenage guy, or it may have happened because of fate, I don't really know; the details are a little fuzzy. Quinn was almost at the door of the gym when I turned her around and kissed her. I knew it was wrong; I knew I'd broken Rachel's heart way too many times by now, and I knew I was basically officially classified as a douchebag. But I didn't really care—Quinn was the only person who really made me feel like _me_—no matter how many times she called me stupid or told me I was an idiot, I was myself with her. When we broke apart, she looked shocked—like I'd punched her in the face or something—and I winced.

"Finn…" she began, but I cut her off.

"Look, Quinn. I know I'm kind of an asshole and I keep changing my mind between you and Rachel but I need you to know I love you." I said in one breath, and I kinda felt like I might pass out.

"Finn…" she said again, only this time she definitely sounded less pissed off.

"And I know I'm stupid and you deserve way better but you make me happy, Quinn. I just want to be happy." She was staring at me with huge eyes and I seriously felt like I was going to vomit, so I just shrugged. "Break a leg, Quinn," I said before turning away.

"Finn," she called, and closing my eyes, I turned around slowly.

"Yeah?"

"I love you too."


End file.
